Los Angeles daily herald., 1887-01-16

of the rector's visit. But to-day Gay
had altogether forgotten her duty.
There she was, high in the fern walk,
sitting on large stone, her head in her
hand, letter in her lap.
was letter from Barbara-a long,
affectionate gossipy letter. such as girls
love. After lengthy account OF the
tournament and the dance that followed,
Barbara went on to say:
"By the way, do you remember The
odore Marston-Ted Marston, you
know--who went away to Australia,
suddenly ever so long ago? Well, he
has come back, and we met him last
night. He sang with Francisco, and
after n while he said
"'Your sister Gay is not here, is she ?
suppose she is married.
"'Oh, no! said Francesca, in that
ingenious way of hers, she ism married;
we none OF us are. She is down in the
country, staying with Aunt Judy. She
is quite altered; not at all the sort of a
girl she was when you were here, when
we first called her Gay, you know.
What made you think she was married.
"'I don't know, said Mr.. Ted, hesi.
tatingly, 4 heard-that is, thought
"And when Francesca, who was de.
termined to get at the right of it, asked
what he heard, it turned out that he
hadn't heard anything. He only imag.
ined it. Wasn't it funny of him ?"
Gay read the words over and over
again. When Aunt Judy's letter ar.
rived, she had determined at once to
give up the ensuing weeks festivities,
and having made the sacrifice with full
desire to do her duty, she had come
with cheerful smile and willing arms
to amuse and entertain her somewhat
exacting relative. As day after day she
set herself resolutely to her task, the
remembrance of the gayeties her sisters
were enjoying filled her less with de-
sire to participate in them. She felt
that, after ell, such pleasures had but q
feeting charm for her. that there was a
void in her life which amusements could
never fill. When, four years ago, The
odore Marston went away, after weeks
of coldness and Misunderstanding, fol.
lowed by painful and stormy interview,
Gabrielle knew that his going would
leave an everlasting blank in her life.
The pride which had prevented any at.
tempt at reconciliation prevented also
any betrayal of feeling to the outside
world. There had never been any en-.
gagement, and no one, not even her
sisters, thought of attributing Theo.
dore's departure to Gabrielle's apparent
indifference, or the gradual change in
Gabrielle's whole nature to Theodore's 3
departure.
Gay herself scarcely knew that she
was changed. The old buoyant, youth.
full spirit was indeed still uppermost;
but the innocent, though,less gayety
was gone forever. The inherent pride
of her nature stood her in good stead.
Thoroughly at loss to understand The.
odore's sudden GOODNESS at time when
the friendship between them had been
very warm and close, she resolved to
shut up her heart upon him, and she
endeavored to keep her resolve, although
the experience of the long years that
followed taught her that it was but a
vain endeavor.
Now, at last she had come back and
had seen her sisters. The thought of q
meeting, which chance circumstances
had seemingly prevented, awoke all the
old passionate, tumultuous feelings.
The impulse to run away from "Ennui
House," SO aptly nicknamed, from Aunt
Judy and her work basket, from the i'm
Fortunate kitten and the more importu-
nate curate, was very strong. 1t would
be so easy, for Barbara was quite
ready to take her place if she would
only consent to return, and she knew
thet Aunt Judy would be willing to &C
cept Barbara's companionship. But
pride was stronger than passion. Does
happiness ever come for the seeking? Is
it not rather in the faithful fultillment of
the duty that lies nearest that happi'
ness, uninvited, comes! Gabrielle
thought it must be SO. After all the
pain and misery so bravely overcome,
sheuld she be weak enough now to con-
fess that regret for the past, had power
to darken her future?
She dashed the tears from her eyes,
crumpled up the letter in her hand,
and was about to jump down the steep
bank, when quick, shrill voice broke
the silence.
"Oh, dear me! Oh, dear, dear, me
To think that you should wake, me up
like that, you naughty little kitten, and
such beautiful sleep! And there's
all my pretty work on the ground, after
all the trouble I've had to match those
wools. Gay Gay! Bless the child,
where is she? Cay" in louder, shriller
treble, "where have you been to, child,
to let this creature wake me up?"
Gay stopped down and picked up the
e,,1I oorfspn from fha
other, and placed then, on the garden
seat.
Then she took up the kitten, who was
attentively following her every move
ment with its paw, and, perching
it on her shoulder, stood looking down
on the perturbed old lady.
"It's a great shame, and I'm very
sorry aunt. l ought to have taken him
with me, but I forgot"
"There, child, it's always the same
excuse. There never was such moon.
ing girl, declare. Never mind; go and
get some silver paper and wrap up all
these woods separately, and fetch me my
smelling-salts and the knitting-needles,
the bone ones, in the right-hand
drawer, on the left side; and tell Mary
to look and see if there are any straw
berries ready. No, never mind; I'll 60
myself. Come along and give me your
arm"
Gay. with sudden remembrance OF
hardly won triumph, made a mental
resolve that from henceforth her young
arm should always be devoted to Aunt
Judy's service.
CHAPTER III.
A few days after the ladies of Leafy
Hill were sitting in the morning room
when the maid brought in card and
said a gentleman had called to see her
mistress. Now Aunt Judy had been
very busy all the morning working for a
bazaar, and she was at present engaged,
with Gays help, upon beaded pin
cushion.
"Bless mel" cried the old lady, rolling
over box of delicate pearl beads in her
confusion. Here's my nephew young,